


All That Glitters

by trashcocoon



Category: Phandom, dan and phil
Genre: M/M, Snow White AU, prince/huntsman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcocoon/pseuds/trashcocoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Skin as white as snow,<br/> Lips as red as blood,<br/>Hair as black as ebony."</p><p>How can Dan possibly kill the only friend he's ever had?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Run Away

“Skin as white as snow.  
Lips as red as blood.  
Hair as black as ebony.”

Phil opened his window, careful not to break any of the spider webs woven there. Immediately, Manks leapt in silently and made himself comfortable on the floor.  
“Hey you, you think you can just come in here like you own the place?” asked Phil, pulling him into his lap. The cat stared balefully up at him. “Yeah, you know I don’t mind.” He opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out the crust of bread he’d been saving there and fed it to Manks. Two mice scampered up onto the stone windowsill, and Manks’s ears perked up.  
“Don’t even think about it,” Phil warned him, pushing him off his lap and kneeling next to the window. “Hello there,” he said to the mice, resting his chin on his folded arms. “Don’t tell me, you heard there’s free food.”  
“Talking to yourself again, Phil?” came a loud voice from the courtyard. Phil’s head jerked up. It was the huntsman, Dan.  
“Of course not, I’m not a loony. I was talking to the mice,” said Phil primly.  
“Oh yes, that’s much more sane,” joked Dan.  
“It is,” insisted Phil. “What’s my stepfather got you up to now?”  
“Nothing, why do you think I’m here talking to you?”  
“Oh because you’d never put off work,” said Phil, grinning. Dan scowled.  
“If I were to actually do my work, you’d have no one to talk to,” he pointed out.  
“Yes I would. I’d have Manks, and the mice, and the birds-“  
“No people to talk to.”  
Phil studies the windowsill.  
“I’m sorry,” said Dan sincerely. “I shouldn’t have said that. I can’t believe King Samuel still won’t let you go outside. Why does he say you can’t, again?”  
Phil sighed and began tracing his finger in swirls on the window frame. “He said the streets have gotten dangerous- too dangerous for a young prince like me.”  
“When was the last time you went outside?” asked Dan.  
“Two years ago,” replied Phil. “I used to go out all the time- I loved the town, with the winding cobblestone streets and the brightly lit shops and the pretty little churches. And the sunshine- I loved the sunshine, so warm and bright. I loved the rain, too- the feeling of it beating down on your head and soaking your clothes. But most of all I loved the people. Everyone, old and young, rich and poor, had a story to tell, and I could have listened to them for days. It’s hard to believe they could have gotten so bad in the years since Father died.”  
“You know, I’ve been in town plenty and it really doesn’t seem all that bad to me. But I’m sure your stepfather knows what’s best for you,” said Dan. “And about the sunshine, you could just come down here! Lots of lovely plants and bugs and all those other things you like. Come on and join me.”  
Phil smiled. “I think I will. Just let me-“  
“Dan! Dan, get in here!” The king’s voice shot across the courtyard like a bullet. Dan’s eyes widened in horror.  
“Got to go- sorry Phil, talk later!”  
“Wait, Dan!” But his brown jerkin and leather boots had already faded from sight. Phil sighed.  
“Looks like another day in, Manks,” he muttered to the cat, sitting back down on the bed.

 

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall,  
Who is most loved of them all?”

King Samuel said these words to his magic mirror back in his chambers after telling off Dan.  
“The people love you, Your Majesty. The new gardens you had planted have got them all raving about how good their king is.”  
King Samuel smiled happily.  
“But…they still love Phil more.”  
The smile evaporated off his face. “What? How can this be? It’s been two years! How come they haven’t all forgotten him by now?”  
“It would appear that two years of absence can’t erase sixteen years of constant presence,” said Magic Mirror thoughtfully. “Besides, he had a real way with them. Charming, sweet, handsome, funny-“  
“Stop, stop, stop!” roared King Samuel, slamming his fist on the bureau in anger. “I am all those things and more! Everywhere I turn, he is the one holding me back! I need to get rid of him!”  
Magic Mirror raised its eyebrows.  
“Wait a minute- that’s it!” exclaimed King Samuel. He grabbed the sides of the mirror. “I’ll have him killed and tell the people that he died in a tragic accident. Then they’ll get the message and move on from him!”  
“Do you really think that’ll work?” asked Magic Mirror skeptically.  
“Of course it will,” said King Samuel confidently. “In fact, I’ll have it taken care of right now. Dan!” he called, smoothing back his sparse, oily hair. “Dan, get in here!”  
“Yes, Your Majesty?” said Dan, sidling quickly in the door a few minutes later.  
“Dan, I have a very special mission for you,” said King Samuel, pacing back and forth. “You know my stepson, Philip, right?”  
“Yes, Your Majesty, I-“ Dan stopped just short of telling him what good friends they were.  
“And you know how much the people adore him, correct?”  
Dan nodded mutely.  
“You must understand how inconvenient that is to me. After all, I am King, not him. They simply won’t let go of him, though. Really the only way to help them move on is to dispose of Phil.”  
Dan swallowed and tugged at the strap of his quiver. “D-dispose?”  
“Dan,” continued the king in an unctuous voice. “You’ve slaughtered pigs, deer, turkeys- countless beasts. You’ve kept our kitchens well stocked for years. Now I need you to get rid of one more animal. Take Phil deep into the forest- and don’t tell him what you’re going to do- and once you are far, far away from the palace and town, kill him. When you have done so, cut out his heart and bring it back to me as proof.”  
Dan’s mouth fell open in shock. “B-but Your Majesty, I-“  
“I know it may seem a bit much, but you must see I have no other choice.”  
“Your Majesty, there must be another way,” Dan pleaded.  
“No Dan, I’m afraid this is the only option. Now go,” said the king, not sounding very sorry. Dan bit back a sob. “Go!” He fled from the room, tears stinging his eyes.

 

At Phil’s door, Dan took a moment to compose himself; he couldn’t let Phil see he’d been crying. This is your duty, Dan reminded himself, your duty to the king and the kingdom.  
He took a deep breath before knocking on the unassuming wooden door. “Phil?”  
The door swung open. “Dan!” exclaimed Phil, his face lighting up. Dan felt a painful stab in his stomach region.  
“His Majesty’s ordered me to take you on a walk,” Dan told him.  
“A walk?” said Phil, puzzled. “As in, outside?”  
“In the forest,” Dan clarified.  
“The forest?”  
“Er- sorry, did I say a walk? I meant a horse ride,” said Dan quickly. “He thinks you don’t get enough practice and that…and that it’s important for all young nobles to know how to ride well. He wants me to take you out to the forest to practice.”  
“Really?” Phil looked skeptical for a moment. Then his face split into a grin. “Okay then! Let’s go!” It hurt to smile back.

The forest was cool and silent but for the occasional bird call. Dan glanced up to where the clouds were gathering; there was a storm coming. He looked over to where Phil was leaning his head against his jet-black horse, his hair practically blending in with the fur. Dan resolutely looked away; he had a job to do.  
“Let’s speed up, Phil,” said Dan. “Brisk trot, all right?”  
“Are you sure?” asked Phil dubiously. “We’re kind of far into the forest. Don’t you think we’ll get lost?”  
“Nah, I know the way back,” said Dan, urging his horse into a trot. “Just follow me.”  
As the clouds got darker, Dan picked up speed. Soon enough, they were both at a full gallop.  
“Dan, I think we should turn around,” Phil called from behind him just as the rain began to pour down. Dan tugged at his reins so his horse slowed to a stop and dismounted.  
“Dan?” asked Phil, confused. Dan refused to look him in the eye as he got off his own horse. “Shouldn’t we go home now? We’re really far away and this storm looks pretty bad.”  
Dan grabbed him by the waist, pushed him up against a tree and drew his sword. Their faces were close, so close. Dan could count every one of Phil’s eyelashes. His skin was warm through his tunic.  
Phil licked his lips, turning them a glossy red. “Dan- what are you-“ Dan raised his sword. Phil gasped in horror. Dan looked back at those lovely blue eyes set wide with terror and confusion, those same eyes that had greeted him when he came to the palace to work years ago as a young boy who had no parents and no other options. Eyes that had crinkled up in laughter at a shared joke, the two of them hiding behind the rosebushes from the king. Eyes that were now filled with fear. Dan swore and threw down his sword.  
“Dan, what is going on?” demanded Phil. Dan groaned and threw his head up to the sky, pushing his wet hair back from his temples.  
“Your father ordered me to kill you,” he said finally. Silence but for the pounding of the rain and a distant crack of thunder.  
“What?” asked Phil, wide-eyed.  
“The people love you more, and he’s jealous, and I’ve killed a lot of pigs, and- oh God, this is a mess. I can’t kill you, but if I don’t, I’ll be killed.”  
“So kill me,” said Phil quietly, picking up the sword and handing it to Dan. Dan took it from him.  
“No Phil, I can’t. You’re too good. You don’t deserve to die. I can’t kill my friend.” Dan paced around agitatedly, twisting his hands together. “The king’ll be expecting me back now. I have to go soon. What am I going to do?” He stopped abruptly. “Wait- that’s it! Pig hearts look just the same as those of humans. I’ll just cut out one of their hearts and take it back to the king and say it’s yours.”  
Phil had watched all this in silence. Dan strode purposefully back over to him and grabbed his hands.  
“Phil, I have to go now. Run. Run away. Run far, far away, away from the palace, away from the king. It’s your only chance. This is all I can do to help you,” said Dan urgently.  
“Will I ever see you again?” Phil asked, his eyes watering. “You…you’ve been my only friend since my father died.”  
“I will try,” said Dan honestly. Thunder boomed, close by this time. A little ways away, the noise of a tree falling ripped through the forest. “Go now.” He pushed Phil away from him, refusing to meet his eyes. “Go! If you want to live, never return.”  
“Dan!”  
Dan jumped on his horse and grabbed the reins of Phil’s. “I’ll find you!” he yelled as he sped away back to the palace. Phil tore himself away and ran off into the dark.


	2. For Me?

Phil didn’t know how long he ran for. All he knew was that that tree root had come out of nowhere and now he was sitting in the mud, branches and thorns ripping at his skin and the rain mingling with his tears.  
I can’t stay here, he thought, forcing himself to stand up again, brush away the tears, and stumble farther into the forest, straining his eyes with every flash of lightning for some sort of clearing.  
At long last, he came upon exactly that- a clearing, with a tiny cottage smack in the middle of it. He almost sobbed with relief. He limped up to the door and knocked on it. Nothing. He knocked again. Still nothing. He tried the doorknob- it wasn’t locked. Hesitantly, he turned it and stepped inside. It was dark, but he could see the outline of a candle mounted next to the doorway. He felt around on the table inside until he found a matchbook and lit it.  
The first thing he noticed was the mess. Pots, pans, dirty clothes, books and pens, pipes and more were strewn everywhere, the floor so badly cluttered it looked almost intentional. There was a literal path cleared from the scuffed wooden table to the door, to some stairs that led up to what looked like a loft.  
“Maybe the owners will let me stay if I clean up,” Phil said to himself and started picking up broken plates.  
Why would the king want to kill him? Dan said it was because the people liked him better. He remembered years ago, before his real father had died, when he would go out into town and talk to the butcher about his troublemaker twins, to the blacksmith about the girl he was in love with, to the candle maker about the story she was writing. Had they loved him? He had loved them. He swept the floor angrily. What gave Samuel the right to have him killed just because people like him? What was he supposed to do? Stop being nice? Become old and bitter like him, wearing a smile to get money out of people more easily?  
Crash. He’d squeezed the teacup so hard it broke. He picked up the pieces and threw them in the trashcan with everything else. There were so many broken dishes he doubted the owners would notice another.  
Finally, the ground floor was clean. His clothes had dried by now, too, so he brushed some dirt and leaves off of them and headed for the loft.  
It wasn’t nearly as messy in here- there were just seven little beds. Little, like, not normal-person sized. They had words like Grumpy, Sleepy, Dopey, and Sneezy painted on the ends of them. He wondered what they meant and sat down on the one marked Sneezy.  
He yawned. He was so tired. It had been a very, very long day. A little nap can’t hurt…the owners have been out for hours, I’ll bet they won’t be back anytime soon, he thought, curling up to fit under the covers the best he could. Almost immediately, he fell asleep, Dan’s face almost touching his the last thought on his mind.

 

“He cleaned the house.”  
“I think he might be the prince!”  
“If he is, he’s as good-looking as they say.”  
“I thought he’d be taller.”  
Phil’s eyes blinked slowly open. He counted seven little hairy men, all clustered around him. He sat straight up.  
“I’m so sorry. Is this your house? I’m sorry, it was raining and I didn’t have anywhere to go. I tidied up,” he added, hoping this would win him some points.  
“We noticed. Who said you could touch our stuff?” asked one with gray eyebrows knitted together, his arms folded angrily over his tiny chest.  
“Hey now, be nice, Grumpy!” said one with little round spectacles. “It was getting pretty bad down there. Now at least we don’t have to do it.”  
“I’m Phil Lester,” said Phil hesitantly.  
Excited gasps and whispers of, so it is him! it is the prince! broke out around him.  
“I think we should keep him!” said one cheerfully. “He’s handsome, he can clean, and he’s the prince!”  
“Happy is right,” declared the one with the spectacles. “Kid, you can stay as long as you want as long as you keep on cleaning up. And would you mind explaining why you’re here in the first place?”  
“My father tried to have me killed, but the huntsman let me go,” said Phil, ignoring the lump in his throat when he brought up Dan.  
More gasps and whispers.  
“The king?” said one in a slow, dumb voice. “But I thought the king was good.”  
“He was jealous that people liked me better than him.” It sounded silly when he said it out loud, but according to Dan, it was the truth.  
“Well you’d better stay inside, kid! If you’re not dead, he’ll still be on your tail!” said Spectacles, sounding alarmed.  
“Okay,” said Phil, willing to comply with whatever they wanted if they were letting him stay. “But Dan said he’d take care of that.”  
“Who’s Dan?” asked Angry Dwarf.  
Phil just shook his head sadly.  
“It’s okay if you-“ the dwarf paused to sneeze- “-achoo! It’s okay if you don’t want to explain.”  
“Can you cook?” interrupted Angry Dwarf.  
“Um, sort of.”  
“Hey, hey, hey, let’s get in some introductions before we put the boy’s nose to the grindstone!” said Spectacles. “I’m Doc.”  
“B-b-bashful.”  
“Snee-achoo!-zy.”  
“Happy’s the name!”  
“I’m-“ yawn “-Sleepy.”  
“Dopey.”  
“Grumpy.”  
Now the words on the beds made sense. “Well if food is what you want, I can get started on that,” said Phil, eager to please his newfound hosts. “Wash up!”  
“Wash…up?” Happy repeated uncomprehendingly.  
“You know, wash your hands. For supper.”  
Apparently the dwarves did not understand the concept of personal hygiene. After teaching them all how the sink worked, Phil cooked up a stew the chef had taught him to make when he was fifteen. He ended up having to teach them a few other things, too- their table manners were atrocious. Immediately after breakfast/lunch/dinner was over (they didn’t seem to have set meal times), they headed off to the mines, where they all worked, and where they’d been all last night, apparently. Phil looked around at the brand new mess and sighed. He was going to be busy, all right.

 

“Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who’s the most loved of them all?” asked King Samuel confidently.  
“You, Your Majesty,” replied the mirror.  
“Hah!” exclaimed the king triumphantly.  
“But so long as Phil Lester lives on, the people will never truly accept you,” Magic Mirror continued.  
“Well, that’s not a problem, is it? He’s dead,” said King Samuel. “I have his heart, right there,” he added, pointing to the blood-soaked white bag Dan had dropped at his feet yesterday morning.  
“Mmm…not quite.”  
“What?!” demanded the king. “How is that possible? I’ve got his heart, right there! That boy is a corpse rotting on the forest floor!”  
If mirrors could shrug, this one would. “I don’t know, Your Majesty, but the prince is alive and kicking.”  
“But that shouldn’t be a problem,” argued the king. “I announced to the kingdom yesterday that he was dead! We’ve already had the funeral! They should have moved on!”  
“The people can feel it in their hearts,” said Magic Mirror sagely.  
“That idiot Dan must not have killed him well enough!” growled King Samuel, turning to walk over to a chest of drawers. Behind him the mirror suppressed an eye roll. “I suppose I’ll have to do this myself,” he said, pulling out vials and scraps of parchment. “I consider myself to be rather talented at the art of witchcraft. If I can just cook up a good disguise and a poison- ah ha!” He held up a long scroll of parchment with words scrawled upon it in shiny blue ink. “This’ll do the trick.” And with that, he ran out of the room, leaving the mirror to roll its eyes and smirk.

 

Back behind the box hedge where he was hiding, Dan paced. The king had that stupid mirror- he was bound to find out sooner or later that Phil was still alive. The question was, would he blame Dan for it?  
And Phil. Was Phil okay? He’d had no other choice than to leave him alone in the woods, but now he worried for his safety. Phil was a royal- he was used to a soft, cushy lifestyle and having it easy. How would he survive in those dangerous woods all by himself?  
Dan couldn’t take it anymore. He only had to hope that the king wouldn’t want to talk to him for the next few hours. He dashed over to the stable to grab his horse, but as he was running, something shiny caught his eye. He bent down to pick it up. It was a medium-sized silver locket, tarnished in a few places, but still nice enough. There was a small gem inlaid in the cover amongst carved swirls and curlicues, and it was sort of blue- but maybe also green, and even gold in some places. It looks just like Phil’s eyes, Dan realized with a pang. He released the clasp and opened it. There was nothing inside, just two empty windows. He snapped it shut again and thrust it in his pocket; maybe he’d be able to get some good money for it. He ran the rest of the way to the stable, then rode his horse into the forest at full pelt. He was going to find Phil if it killed him.

 

Phil sighed and leaned on his broomstick. The amount of mess those dwarves could make in the few hours they were home every night had to be some sort of world record. As he threw the last few scraps of food in the trash, there was a knock on the door.  
Who could that be? he wondered. The dwarves never knock; they just come barging right in. He pulled back one of the patchwork curtains over the window next to the door and peered out. An old woman, stooped and shrouded in a black cloak, was in front of the door. In her hand was a small wicker basket full of things that glinted and shined. Phil frowned. Who the heck was that? He pulled back the latch and opened the door.  
“Oh hello there, young man,” said the old woman in a sweet, high voice. Phil counted three warts on her left cheek alone. “Would you spare a few coins for a pretty trinket? I know you’d just love some of these treasures I’ve got here.”  
“Sorry, I haven’t got any money,” said Phil. “But those do look lovely,” he added, feeling bad. It was true. One necklace in particular caught his eye- it had a gleaming gold chain and a bird-shaped pendant carved from some sort of warm brown stone with hints of gold around the edges.  
“Well that’s too bad, dearie,” said the old woman, not actually looking that upset. “Why don’t you pick out something anyway? I don’t mind giving away a little to a nice boy like you.”  
“No, really, I couldn’t do that,” said Phil apologetically, moving to close the door. “Thank you very much for the offer, though.”  
“But I insist!” exclaimed the old woman, stepping closer in to the doorway, her eyes wide. “Please, it would make an old woman’s day.”  
Phil hesitated. She didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon, and she was a very sweet old lady…  
“Er- all right then, ill take that one,” said Phil, pointing to the bird necklace. The old woman’s face split open in a grin.  
“Excellent choice, love!” She pulled it out of the basket and dropped it into Phil’s cupped hands. “Have a good day. And make sure to put it on! It’ll look just beautiful wound around your soft white neck.”  
Something in the way she said that struck Phil as a tad creepy, but he smiled politely and closed the door.  
He sighed and walked back to the counter, holding the necklace up to the light. It was very pretty. Oh well, I might as well put it on, he thought, stringing it around his neck and fastening the clasp. Instantly, it slithered up from his chest and wound itself around his neck, choking him. Phil gasped and fell back against the counter, scrabbling at his neck as the chain grew tighter and tighter. I’m going to die, he thought with horror, struggling for breath. It’s going to kill me.  
Suddenly the door flew open with a bang, and Dan (Dan?) came running into the room. In a second, he was by Phil’s side and ripping the necklace off with his hunting knife. He threw it to the ground and Phil heaved a breath. Dan grabbed his shoulders.  
“Phil! Are you okay? Phil!”  
Phil coughed and nodded his head as hard as he could. Dan guided him over to a chair and sat down across from him. Once he’d recovered enough, he asked, “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”  
“Actually, I’ve been searching for hours,” said Dan. “I finally saw a sign on one of the trees that said something about dwarves, so I took a chance and followed it here. Looks like I was just in time. What happened?”  
Phil shook his head and coughed again. “This old lady came to the door peddling her wares and when I said I didn’t have any money, she said I could take something for free. Looks like I picked a cursed necklace,” he said, glaring at the floor regretfully. Dan stood up and picked the necklace up between his thumb and forefinger as if it might bite and disappeared out the door for a moment. Phil stood up and followed him in time to see him fling the necklace far out into the woods beyond. He came back inside and they sat down.  
“Well…thanks,” said Phil after a semi-awkward silence. “If you hadn’t been here, I would’ve died. How’d things go back at the palace? I see you haven’t been beheaded yet.”  
Dan laughed sardonically. “Emphasis on yet. I’m not sure if the king’s figured out you’re dead or not by now- I gave him the pig’s heart and all and he seemed to buy it- but I think I’d still better keep my head down for a while. I’ve managed to keep supplying the kitchen with fresh meat without reporting to him for a while, but I don’t know how long that’ll last. He’s got that damned mirror and all.”  
Phil flinched slightly at the swear word. Dan mentally kicked himself. “Sorry- I forgot you don’t like that. Here- since the last one didn’t work out so well.” He dug the locket he’d found out of his pocket and presented it to Phil. Phil gingerly took it from him and rubbed his finger on the gemstone. At last he looked up at Dan.  
“Thank you, Dan,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “It’s beautiful.”  
“You’re welcome,” said Dan, smiling. “Here, let me help you put it on.” He got up and took the necklace from him and put it around his neck. He reflected on the fact that now he couldn’t sell it for extra money, but all thoughts of that disappeared when his hand brushed the skin on Phil’s neck as he fastened the clasp.  
“There,” he said, shaking off some shivers. “I promise this one won’t strangle you.”  
“Thank you again, Dan. For everything,” said Phil earnestly. Dan wasn’t sure if he was talking about saving his life, the locket, or something else.  
“No need to thank me,” said Dan, walking to the door. “I have to go now. But don’t worry, I promise I’ll be back.”  
“Okay,” said Phil, getting up to close the door behind him. “Come back soon, please. I miss you. And…be careful, too. You don’t know what the king might do if he gets his hands on you.”  
Dan nodded before jumping on his horse. “See you soon. Stay safe,” he yelled as he rode back to the palace, a warmth in his chest and a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost done! I've kind of taken details from a whole bunch of different Snow White adaptations, and obviously, I made some things up. Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear a comment or two!


	3. Happily Ever After

It was two days after the necklace incident and Dan was prowling the halls of the palace, hiding around a corner every time he heard people’s voices. He’d been risking little expeditions into the palace lately to steal food and water. But today he had a different mission- Phil’s room. He’d told himself it was to feed that dumb cat Phil loved so much, but in truth, he was really just taking advantage of the opportunity to examine the few square feet Phil spent most of his life in. Checking around hastily for guards, he grabbed the doorknob and turned it; it wasn’t locked.  
He’d been in Phil’s room a few times before, but always with Phil in it. This was different- the window was still open from how he’d left it the day Dan had saved him, and a cool breeze ruffled the bedcovers and curtains. Dan sank down on the bed, where Manks was curled up. Dan stared at him apprehensively.  
“How does Phil even know you’re a boy?” Dan muttered. He leaned over to the bedside dresser and opened the drawer, not before noticing the three books stacked on top. Inside the drawer was a stash of bread crusts. Dan took one out and tossed it on the bedspread a few feet away from Manks. Manks regarded him coldly. Dan groaned. “Fine.” He leaned over and put it next to the cat then went to shut the drawer. However, he stopped when he noticed his name peeking out from under a pile of quills and sweet wrappers. He carefully slid out the piece of paper and suppressed a gasp. It was a portrait of him, sketched carefully in dark gray pencil, the right side of his mouth curled up in a smile. When did Phil make this? He’d never seen him drawing when he was around. With a jolt, he realized Phil must’ve memorized exactly what he looked like when he smiled. At the bottom of the paper are the words, For Dan. Happy birthday to the best huntsman and friend there ever was! Love, Phil. Dan traced that word, love, over and over, boring the image into his brain. Manks yowled, breaking his reverie; outside the door, guards’ voices echoed. It was time to go. He folded the paper into quarters and shoved it in his pocket before slipping out the window and climbing down the wall. Down in the courtyard, he sat down behind a marble statue and unfolded the paper again. Happy birthday. That’s right- his birthday was tomorrow. He’d actually forgotten. He folded the paper back up and hurried out the garden path. Not going to have much of a celebration this year, he thought grimly.

 

“What?” King Samuel flung a goblet against the wall next to the mirror. “What do you mean he’s not dead?”  
“I mean,” said Magic Mirror, flinching as a porcelain dove shattered next to him, “the necklace didn’t succeed in killing him. Sorry to break it to you, but the prince is still very much alive.”  
King Samuel roared in frustration and threw a flower vase at the wall. China and dirt exploded everywhere, the roses dropping limply to the ground. “How come it didn’t work? Did he not put it on?”  
“It would seem he managed to take it off,” said Magic Mirror, looking apprehensively at the wine bottle in King Samuel’s hand. A second later, it hit the wall to his right, wine staining it the color of dried blood. A hairbrush, quill pen, two diamond rings, and a rather expensive belt all hit the wall before he both calmed down and ran out of things to throw.  
“Fine,” he muttered, rubbing at his temples and throwing his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ll just have to give it another go. This time I’ll stick around long enough to make sure that stupid boy is really dead.” With that, he slammed out of the room, servants and guards flattening themselves against the wall as he strode angrily down the hallways, his robe billowing out behind him. Down one, two, three flights of stairs, through the passageway behind his great-grandfather’s portrait, and into his laboratory. Immediately, he relaxed. This was where he belonged, amongst his potions and spells and magic ingredients. This was where he was one hundred percent in control.  
“Now,” he muttered, skimming the neatly labeled shelves. “This time, I need a poison so deadly there will be no getting rid of it.” He grabbed a huge, leather bound tome with ancient runes etched into the cover and began to flip through it until he reached a page marked, for use when desperate. It was the most potent poison in the book, but it had to be ingested. “That’s no use,” he grumbled. “The boy isn’t a complete nitwit- I doubt he’ll accept anything else I give him because of that necklace. I know! I’ll use a quick body-control spell to make sure he eats it. Those only last a few seconds, but that’s as long as I should need.” He got to work, pulling down lizard’s tongues, fairy wings, dried newts’ eyes, and preserved toad warts and throwing them all in a large cast iron cauldron. As he began to stir it, he noticed a footnote at the bottom of the page: *Warning: a kiss may reverse this spell if the love is true.  
King Cornelius shook his head. That won’t be a problem- Phil didn’t have a true love; he’d made sure of it. He hadn’t let a single pretty girl into the palace for two whole years.

 

The sun was just making its appearance over the horizon, clouds blushing pink and gold and scuttling out of the way as Dan’s boots crunch, crunch, crunched over the frost-laden ground. He took his usual seat on a hay bale just behind the stables and pulled out his knife and the doll he was whittling. He had just sculpted out its tiny lips when he heard the voices of the head groom and a milkmaid.  
“It’s the strangest thing, I can’t seem to find my locket!” the head groom was saying. Dan edged closer. “I always carry it in my pocket, but when I checked the other day, it wasn’t there.”  
“Why the hell d’you keep it in your pocket?” demanded the milkmaid. “It’s bound to fall out there. Lockets are for wearing around your bloody neck, you idiot.”  
“I just thought it would look stupid around my neck, such a big silver thing.” Dan gulped. “You’re probably right; it must’ve fallen out.”  
“Well, I wish you luck,” said the milkmaid. “I’ve got to get to me own work now, but let me know if you find the thing.”  
The second she was gone, Dan crept hesitantly out from behind the barn.  
“Dan, my boy!” exclaimed the groom as soon as he spotted him. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around in ages!”  
“Hi Simon. I’ve…I’ve been busy,” said Dan. “Um, I happened to hear you talking about a locket you lost. What did it look like, exactly?”  
“Silver, with a little blue and green and gold gemstone in the middle. Biggish, with some fancy swirls and whatnot around the gem. Tell you a secret-“ here he leaned in closer and put his mouth up to Dan’s ear. “I stole it.”  
Dan raised his eyebrows and looked over at Simon. “Stole it? Who from?”  
Simon leaned in even closer. “The king himself. Tell you something else-“ Now his tongue was practically inside Dan’s ear. “-it’s his witch’s necklace.”  
“Wait a minute,” said Dan nervously. “What does that mean, witch’s necklace?”  
“Well, there are rumors- rumors that I can now confirm- that the king dabbled in sorcery and the like!”  
“And…what does that have to do with the necklace?”  
“Well, when someone wants to become a sorcerer- and I only know this because I read about it-“ he added hastily. Dan nodded, motioning for him to go on. “They’ve got to train under another witch or wizard. When their mentor deems them ready to become a real sorcerer for his or herself, they give their trainee a necklace as a symbol of their, ah, whadayacallit, competence.”  
“And there’s no magic in it?”  
“None,” said Simon, shaking his head. “It’s all in the witch or wizard ‘emself. But the necklace is a big deal. I found it when I was a still a scullery boy cleaning up his chambers- just dropped on the floor, forgotten, like no big deal.”  
“Then how do you know it’s a wizard’s necklace?” asked Dan. “If it was just lying there, how do you even know he’s a wizard at all?”  
“Well, that’s mainly because of what other people say,” admitted Simon. “A lot of the servants here, they’ve seen him in the act. They say he’s real good with cursing objects.”  
“Wait a minute, did you say cursing objects?” demanded Dan, grabbing Simon’s arm.  
“Yes, and disguises too,” he replied, nodding seriously.  
“What kind of disguises?”  
“Oh, a whole bunch, but they say his specialty is an old, warty, stooped-over woman,” replied Simon. The bottom of Dan’s stomach dropped out.  
“Oh no,” he murmured.  
“What’s wrong, lad? You’re looking a bit green,” said Simon worriedly. “You coming down with something?”  
“Thanks Simon,” he said, running into the stable and throwing the saddle on his horse.  
“Wait!” Simon called. “Why were you asking about my locket?”  
“Tell you later!” yelled Dan as he frantically galloped away into the woods.

 

“Good-bye, Sleepy,” said Phil, kissing the last dwarf on the forehead. Singing and clanking their pickaxes, they all marched out of the cottage. Phil closed the door behind them and sat down with a sigh. Finally, some time to myself, he thought, just as there was a knock on the door. He groaned. What had they left behind this time? When he opened the door, however, it was not a dwarf but the old woman who had sold him the necklace, this time with a basket of the biggest, reddest apples Phil had ever seen.  
“Hello again, darling!” cried the old woman, sounding absolutely delighted. “I’ve got something new for you this time. How about a coin or two for a delicious, red apple?”  
“I’m sorry, I still don’t have any money. And I wasn’t a huge fan of the last thing you sold me either,” Phil added. The old woman’s eyes widened farther than most people’s could.  
“Why ever not, dearie?” she asked. “Not your color?”  
“It tried to strangle me,” replied Phil crossly.  
“Oh no!” she gasped, looking stricken. “It must be one of the ones I inherited from my nasty old witch of a mother. I am so sorry, my love. I assure you, I meant no harm, I was just trying to be nice!”  
Phil softened at the expression on her face. Poor old woman, reduced to selling her mother’s jewelry just to make money. And to think she’d given him a piece for free! “That’s quite all right,” Phil assured her.  
“Oh no really, I must make up for it!” exclaimed the old lady, pulling out an apple from her basket and holding it up to Phil’s face. “Here, take this, as a token of my sincerest apologies.”  
“Oh- no, that’s all right,” said Phil quickly. He didn’t blame her for the accident, but he wasn’t so stupid he would take something from her again.  
“But I insist!” There she was with that, ‘but I insist’ again. Phil sighed, realizing he could just take the apple from her and not eat it.  
“Okay, I’ll take it,” said Phil, plucking it out of her hand. It did look really good- it was so shiny Phil could see his reflection in it. “Have a nice day,” he said, quickly closing the door. He sighed and set the apple on the table. As he made his way to the loft however, he felt a strange tugging sensation in his gut and on the bottom of his feet. Before he knew it, he had walked back over to the table and was picking up the apple.  
“Wait- no, I don’t want it-“ he started to say before his mouth moved with a mind of its own and took a huge bite of the apple. He tried to stop himself, but he chewed and swallowed the whole thing. Phil was dead before he even hit the ground.

 

Wind roared in Dan’s ears and trees whipped past him in a green-and-brown blur as he urged his horse on.  
“Come on, come on, faster!” he muttered. Suddenly, a glint of red caught his eye. He tugged on the reins and his horse slowed to a stop. He jumped off and ran up to the old woman holding the basket of apples.  
“Oh hello, dearie!” she said innocently. “Spare a few pennies for an apple?”  
“Don’t try that game with me,” Dan growled, pulling out his sword. “I know who you are, King Samuel.”  
The woman looked surprised for a moment before shrugging and giving him an ugly leer. “So you know who I am. I wonder how you found out,” she said, shedding the cloak and disguise. And there was King Samuel, a smug grin on his ugly face. “No matter. I assume you’re off to rescue your little friend Phil? Too late- he’s already dead.”  
“No,” whispered Dan, his hand holding the sword shaking.  
“Yes,” said the king triumphantly, drawing his own sword. “You know Dan, this would’ve all been much easier if you’d just killed him in the first place like I told you to. But no, you had to make things difficult. And now I have to kill you.”  
He leapt forward, his blade aimed at Dan’s heart. Dan parried it and stepped backwards. “Why do you want him dead so badly?” he demanded, thrusting his sword at him.  
“All the people are just so in love with him!” snarled King Samuel, pushing forward. “They shouldn’t love him, they should love me! I’m their king!”  
“You’re nothing but a jealous old fool!” yelled Dan. The trees suddenly gave way to a flat expanse of rock.  
“Don’t you dare speak to your king that way, boy!” roared King Samuel. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be starving on the streets!”  
“That’s not true,” replied Dan, dodging another strike. “You didn’t hire me! King Felix did! And he was three times the king you’ll ever be!” He slashed his sword at King Samuel’s neck. King Samuel stepped back to avoid it, but with a crumbling, cracking sound, the rocky ground gave way beneath him, and the old king toppled off the edge of the cliff, screaming and screaming until- splat. Dan winced and looked away. Thunder rumbled overhead- another storm was brewing. Dan ran back to his horse just as lightning flashed nearby and the sky opened up. He mounted his horse and raced back the direction he was going. He had to find Phil, he had to find Phil, he had to find Phil.

 

Finally, the cottage came into view. Dan quickly dismounted and threw open the door. There was no one inside. “Phil?” he yelled. “Phil!”  
He ran out and searched around the entire cottage. “Phil! Where are you? Phil, please answer!” At the top of the hill was a dark blob that seemed to be moving. “Phil!” he yelled, pelting up the hill, rain pouring down his clothes and face. His horse raced after him, apparently panicked at being left alone in a storm. He reached the top. Seated there were seven little men around a box, raindrops mingling with the tears on their faces.  
“Excuse me,” said Dan, trying to catch his breath. “Have you seen a young man around here recently? White skin, black hair, red lips, pale blue eyes?”  
“You mean Phil?” one of them rasped in a voice weak from crying.  
“Yes! Yes, that’s him! Have you seen Phil?”  
“The prince is right here,” said the dwarf, moving aside so that Dan could see the box. His breath caught in his throat. It was a coffin, made entirely of glass. And inside…he knelt down, his hands trembling as he placed them on the coffin- inside was Phil, his head resting on a red velvet cushion. His hair was swept gently across his forehead, his lips were curved up in a faint smile, and his eyes were closed as if in sleep.  
“No,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to believe it…oh Phil.” Two teardrops fell on the coffin to mingle with the receding rain. He sank back on his knees and put his face in his hands, sobs wracking his body.  
“We made him a glass coffin so that even in death, the world may see his goodness and his beauty,” said another dwarf in a mournful whisper.  
“Isn’t there- isn’t there anything we can do? Anything at all?” Dan gulped painfully.  
“It is said that the spell can be broken by true love’s kiss,” replied the dwarf. By this time, the rain had let up completely.  
True love’s kiss, Dan thought. I don’t think Phil had a true love. He looked back at the coffin. On Phil’s chest rested the silver locket. A breeze drifted by, washing away the last of the rain and leaving a clean, cool scent behind. Dan gestured to the coffin. “May I?” he asked the dwarves. They nodded. He unlatched it and carefully swung the lid open. Phil’s skin glowed ivory, contrasting with the red rose arranged in his folded hands. Dan gently picked the locket up off his chest and opened it. Inside was a scrap of paper with a drawing on it, a miniature replication of the one in Dan’s pocket. Dan pulled that out now, smoothing it on his knees. Birds started to chirp and rays of golden sunshine began breaking through the clouds, turning the leaves on the trees a brilliant green and the glass of the coffin rainbow. Dan traced his finger again over the word love. Love, Phil. Was it possible? Dan knew truly now that he loved Phil. But had Phil felt the same? Only one way to find out. The breeze swept past again, bringing with it flower petals and their perfume. Dan leaned over the coffin and, ignoring the gasps of the dwarves, placed his lips over Phil’s. They were cold. Dan opened his eyes and moved to pull away. Suddenly, Phil’s eyelids fluttered underneath Dan’s gaze. His lips moved back and forth slightly, and suddenly, there he was- alive. Dan’s eyes widened in shock.  
“Dan,” said Phil. “You came back for me. You kissed me.” Dan dropped his gaze.  
“I’m sorry,” he said at the exact moment that Phil said, “I love you.”  
“You do?” he asked.  
“Of course I do,” said Phil, smiling and sitting up. “I always have.”  
“I love you too,” Dan whispered. Phil pulled him in for another kiss, his arms around Dan’s neck. His lips were warm now and moved with Dan’s own.  
“The king?” he asked, breaking away.  
“Gone,” said Dan simply, holding out his hand to help Phil up. Phil looked surprised but then nodded resolutely.  
“Good,” he said, taking his hand and standing up. “Then I’d like to go into the town. I want to see the people.” He turned to the dwarves. “Will you come with us? I’ve grown to love you all so much. I’ll miss you.”  
Doc shook his head. “We belong here, Phil. But please, come and visit us sometime. We’ll miss you too.”  
Phil smiled. “Of course.” Then he turned to Dan. “Shall we go?”  
Dan smiled back. “Let’s.” He grabbed his horse's reins in one hand and Phil's hand in the other. “But first, there’s a certain cat back at the palace that I think misses you very much.” Phil laughed and squeezed Dan's hand as they walked back towards the kingdom. It seems obvious to say so, but I feel that I should really mention that everyone lived Happily Ever After.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when your own internalized homophobia gets you thrown off a cliff. Also I apologize for literally the cheesiest end in all of existence. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and as always, feel free to leave a comment! ^u^

**Author's Note:**

> Up dates should be pretty frequent, so worry not! Phan is not real, please don't harrass Dan and Phil, etc. let me know what you thought!


End file.
